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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889047">Sign of the Times</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iccelandic/pseuds/iccelandic'>iccelandic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homelessness, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Swearing, There will be violence, no trials or killers. everyone is human, the entity dont exist, wraith is a dog hehe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:49:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iccelandic/pseuds/iccelandic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was an ordinary evening shift at the Pale Rose Cafe. The flow of traffic slowed down, which made it the perfect time for Jeff Johansen to work. Less people, less rush, less anxiety. It was a win-win-win situation. </p><p>--</p><p>Coffee shop au with a twist. Jeff works at a cafe, Feng is homeless and finds an escape from reality within the pale pink walls. There will be some violence later on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeffrey 'Jeff' Johansen/Feng Min</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Working Hard or Hardly Working</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was an ordinary evening shift at the Pale Rose Cafe. The flow of traffic slowed down, which made it the perfect time for Jeff Johansen to work. Less people, less rush, less anxiety. It was a win-win-win situation. The walls of the cafe, indeed a pale rose colour, contrasted nicely with the dark, green tinted wood floors. The tables, spread at regular intervals to provide distance while maintaining uniformity, were a lighter wood, circular in shape and surrounded by matching chairs with soft, blackish-greenish cushions on the seat to ensure a comfortable sitting experience.</p><p><br/>
Jeff took his place behind the till, just finishing securing his long, dark hair up into a messy bun behind him. He admired his beard in the reflection of the glass containing the baked goods. Freshly trimmed, shorter than he used to keep it, but more manageable. He thought he looked rather out of place, standing behind the counter with his hulking form, dwarfing a fair number of his customers on the average.<br/>
He tried to wear a soft, friendly smile, but his cheeks tended to get sore before the end of the night.</p><p><br/>
People would stop in on their way home, often college kids grabbing a boost before their late shift - or before they pulled an all-nighter as the price to pay for neglecting to finish their essay until the night it was due.</p><p>Jeff raised his eyes at the sound of the door behind him opening, and turned to watch his boss as she wiped her hands off.</p><p><br/>
Lisa Sherwood was the name, his bosses that is. An older black woman, greying hair tightly pulled back into a bun of braids, kept sufficiently out of her face while she baked. She was thin, willowy, and a bit on the shorter side, with sharp, jutting cheekbones and narrow eyes. Lisa had the look to her that let everyone know she was someone who could be trusted, radiating a grandmotherly aura despite not having any children, to his knowledge.</p><p><br/>
“Alrighty,” Lisa said with a smile across her dark face, small wrinkles cracking as she displayed her pearly yet slightly crooked teeth, “You should be all set for the night shift, that's the last of our baked goods for tonight.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright, have a good night.”</p><p><br/>
"You too, kiddo." She hung her apron up before leaving. No more words needed to be shared between the two.</p><p><br/>
Lisa was a good boss, Jeff was grateful he had someone so chill to work under. She could be trouble, a bit too playful for her own good, but genuine and well meaning. And not someone to get on the bad side of. Not that he was, but he’d rather not be on any side other than her good.</p><p><br/>
He turned his attention away from the empty store, ignoring the slowly setting sun outside as he cleaned a handful of novelty mugs that they let customers drink from if they stayed in the cafe. He was currently transfixed, scrubbing clean a cactus shaped mug, one of the newer ones that Lisa had added to her collection. He stuck the soapy rag deep into the cup, twisting his hand to work out the coffee stains as best as he could.</p><p><br/>
He was distracted now, even from his cactus mug cleaning duties, as he made his shopping list in his head. He was running low on essentials - he had instant noodles for dinner before work, and it wasn’t exactly the healthiest of meals. More importantly, he was running low on dog food. Now, him going hungry was one thing. His precious pooch going hungry? Unthinkable! He was pretty sure Walmart had a sale on dog food, if he remembered the flyer from that morning correctly. Much as he loved his job, Jeff had to admit; he didn’t make the most money.</p><p>
  <em>Ding.</em>
</p><p><br/>
Jeff raised his head at the sound of the bell, turning away as he set the mug upside down to dry. His eyes went to the door, to see who his first customer was.</p><p><br/>
A somewhat dirty looking young woman entered, pale skin and an awkward, medium length bob that went too short to be long, but too long to be short. Her bangs tickled past her eyebrows, clearly too long - she was in need of a good trim. Now, she didn’t look like she rolled around in muck and mire or anything, but she did carry a certain grimy, dirtiness to her. The kind you get after not properly showering for a week or so. Jeff only offered the stoic looking woman a smile, </p><p><br/>
“Welcome to the Pale Rose, what can I get you?” He spoke in his best customer service voice, nearly wavering as she came closer.</p><p><br/>
She was still silent, the woman. Wearing a jacket, a little too thin for the rapidly encroaching Canadian winter, and a plain shirt underneath. He caught her eyes. Dark, moody, and tired eyes. A brown so dark it looked black, but surely not actually black. The brown reminded him of dark wood, like the floors of his childhood house back in Ormond. It suited her, matching perfectly with the rest of her features, her round cheeks and short stature. There was something behind the eyes he wasn't sure he could quite place - something deeper.</p><p><br/>
The woman’s eyes weren’t on him, and she still hadn’t responded as she looked up at the menu behind him. </p><p><br/>
Jeff fidgeted awkwardly, fiddling with his hands behind the till. He hoped she didn't want any advice on what to get, he really only drank </p><p><br/>
“Looking for something specific?” He asked, seeming to startle the young woman from her reading.</p><p><br/>
She shook her head before replying, “Just a coffee. And the internet password.”</p><p><br/>
Her voice sent a chill down Jeff’s spine, so controlled and confident. Straight to the point.</p><p><br/>
“Sure thing. That’ll be 1.50. We have tap if you’d like-” </p><p><br/>
A handful of coins slid across the counter, catching him off guard. Lots of people chose to use their card, or bills even, not too often did he get a hand full of change.</p><p><br/>
He took it, and handed back the leftover amount, passing her a small card with the access code to use the internet. As he got to work, turning to collect a mug from the rack behind the counter, he caught her gaze once more and followed it - right to a panda shaped mug. </p><p><br/>
She glanced at him, cheeks burning before she pulled back from the counter and took her things to a table in the corner, seemingly as far from Jeff as possible.</p><p><br/>
He plucked the panda mug off of the rack and set to work brewing a fresh pot of coffee, deciding to use the cactus mug for a small drink himself, to keep the sleepiness at bay. As the coffee brewed quietly behind him, he couldn’t help but glance over at the woman. She had a bag with her, which she opened to reveal a small, old laptop that looked like it was held together with bandaids and bubblegum, if even. She pulled out a cord, and plugged it into the wall in one of the designated sockets, waiting for it to roar to life.</p><p><br/>
Probably a student here to finish an essay, he figured, watching her put a set of headphones over her ears - the kind you’d get on an airplane back in the day, or from elementary school, or as a really lame gift from out of touch grandparents. Easily breakable, and certainly not comfortable.</p><p><br/>
Jeff snapped out of his stupor watching the vaguely dirty girl when the coffee pot wheezed at him, and he plucked it clean off of the burner to fill both of the cups. He poured a hefty handful of sugar into his, leaving it to cool as he carried the coffee over to his only patron so far. He brought a coaster, setting the drink down atop of it.</p><p><br/>
“Enjoy. It’s hot.” He cautioned, smiling. She looked up at him, almost blankly before she nodded her head and muttered a small thanks, almost quiet enough that he couldn't hear her.</p><p><br/>
Back to his post he went, stirring his drink and eyeing the road outside. The subtle clicking of her fingers on the keyboard didn’t bother him much, the soft music playing over the speakers mostly covered it up.</p><p><br/>
The door swung open, and the bell gave a ding. A familiar face waltzed in, a night shift regular.</p><p><br/>
“Evening, Claud. The usual?” He called out as the woman entered, clutching books to her chest, which she soon placed down on the counter to rummage in her pockets for her wallet.</p><p><br/>
“Yes, thank you.” She smiled tiredly as he tapped in her order, and she paid with her card. </p><p><br/>
A blueberry muffin with her large coffee, two milk and two sugar. </p><p><br/>
Claudette was a student at the university studying biology. She was a diligent student - hard working, probably too hard working.<br/>
“How’s the night class been going?”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, you know.” She frowned, but quickly plastered a smile on her face, “About as great as a class that nearly goes into tomorrow can be. We’ve got a lab coming up next week.”</p><p><br/>
Jeff chuckled, “Well, you best be on your way. See ya tomorrow, Claud.”</p><p><br/>
“Thanks, bye Jeff.” </p><p><br/>
Claudette vanished out the door, somehow balancing her coffee and muffin along with the books she carried. Jeff shook his head, always in wonder with that woman’s dedication. They’d become friends - of sorts. Not like they met up outside of work, but they’d run into each other getting groceries and the like. There were only so many places a student could shop in this town without going bankrupt.</p><p><br/>
The night trudged along, and he found himself making a bored round around the shop front, bringing a hot pot of coffee over to the woman, clearing his throat.</p><p><br/>
She peeked up at him, almost looking annoyed as she gave him an unenthusiastic ‘uh-huh?’</p><p><br/>
He held the coffee up, smiling, “Free refill?”</p><p><br/>
“Please.”</p><p><br/>
He topped her cup up, taking the chance to glance over her shoulder as he walked away.</p><p><br/>
She wasn’t writing an essay like he’d assumed she was - she was playing some game. Her fingers moved swiftly across the keys, and he found himself entranced at the hypnotic sight before him. She moved as if the keyboard, the laptop itself, was an extension of her. It was some sort of combat game, with small yet detailed characters moving across a virtual battlefield. </p><p><br/>
Jeff didn’t know much about games, but he knew this girl had skill. He was staring, watching her execute moves perfectly - clicking buttons in rapid succession. He lost track of time, he could have been there for hours or seconds watching her destroy what he presumed to be other people playing the same game.</p><p><br/>
He clutched the coffee pot, not caring that it became cold. Not like anyone was coming in to get any, anyhow. It was dark out, the streets were mostly empty, and the only person he’d seen the past hour or two was glued to a laptop in the corner of the cafe. </p><p><br/>
He blinked as the screen flashed with the words “YOU DIED,” snapping out of his stupor in time to hear her frustrated groan as the game seemingly ended.</p><p><br/>
“You’re real good at that.” He muttered, cocking his head to the side.</p><p><br/>
She turned to look up at him, taking her coffee cup in her hands, expression unreadable.</p><p><br/>
“You play?” She asked, earning a shake of his head.</p><p><br/>
“Nah. How long have you been playing?” </p><p> </p><p>“Since it came out a couple years ago.” She tilted her head, craning her neck to get a better view of him as he peered over at the screen of her laptop.</p><p> </p><p>“ShiningLion, that you?” He asked, quirking a brow.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my screen name.” Her cheeks flushed crimson, “I’m Feng.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jeff.” He held out his hand, which dwarfed hers when she placed her hand within his. A gentle, yet firm squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>Feng withdrew her hand, and watched as Jeff pulled a chair out next to her and lowered his massive form into it. He set the coffee pot onto the table, leaning back in the comfy chair.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never seen you around here.” He broke the comfortable silence, “First time visiting us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” She answered shortly.</p><p> </p><p>He figured she wasn’t one to talk much, but he pressed on. He didn’t know why he wanted to talk to Feng. He didn’t really like talking with strangers, maybe it was the long night of nobody else in sight, the tired look that glazed over her eyes - a different kind of tired, a deep tired that sunk deeper than surface level sleepiness. Or maybe it was just that she was real pretty, and exactly his type. The type he didn’t know he had, the type that wandered into his life and shook him up like a snowglobe.</p><p> </p><p>The conversation dragged on, mostly one sided with a couple of quips thrown back by Feng every now and then, followed by an infectious little laugh that stole Jeff’s heart every time.</p><p> </p><p>Feng sat up suddenly, stretching as she looked out the large windows at the dark road. She turned off the laptop, which had remained mostly untouched since the two started talking. </p><p> </p><p>Jeff peeked at the clock, cursing. Just his luck, it was 11 already. An hour past closing. He stood up, taking the cold cup and cold coffee pot back behind the counter while his new companion packed her things.</p><p> </p><p>He dumped the coffee, and set to work filling a sink to wash the cups and pot. He turned while the sink filled to try and catch sight of the woman.</p><p> </p><p>Feng stood there, hesitating. She’d packed her things up, but didn’t look like she wanted to leave, holding her bag close to her chest. </p><p> </p><p>She approached the counter, and Jeff turned back to the sink, face growing hot.</p><p> </p><p>“Jeff?” She called, setting her bag on the counter and smoothing it out. He turned his head, elbow deep in suds.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh. Can I help? I made you stay late.” </p><p> </p><p>Her soft voice shook his heart to the core, “Oh, oh you don’t have to! Don’t worry. You’ve probably got to get home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah.” She insisted, “I don’t got anywhere to go right now, let me help. I can sweep the floors or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Before he could protest, Feng snatched up the broom that was kept behind the counter and began to busy herself.</p><p> </p><p>Jeff halted his work, gazing upon the woman.</p><p> </p><p>Her hair fell in her face, making her tuck it back behind her ear frustratedly. She swept diligently, making sure to leave no spot unswept - not even missing under the tables, nor the awkward little corners Jeff struggled with.</p><p> </p><p>When he felt water on his shoe, he only then realized he’d forgotten to turn off the tap. Scrambling to do so, the water continued to flood slightly over the edge, making a bigger mess.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah shit…” He groaned as he reached for a towel to mop up the water. He prayed Feng hadn’t seen.</p><p> </p><p>He mopped up the excess water, draining the sink back to a manageable level. He scrubbed at the coffee pot, trying to focus. He didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight.</p><p> </p><p>Feng had. And she hadn’t a clue, did she? He sighed heavily, letting it soak as he dried his hands and stepped away to empty the glass display of the baked goods that hadn’t sold.</p><p> </p><p>He helped himself to a carrot muffin, normally he wasn’t a muffin fan but Lisa’s were to die for. He took a chomp out of it as he started to bag the food. He hadn’t noticed the hungry eyes watching as he bagged everything up.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm.” Feng cleared her throat, looking down at him as he crouched behind the counter.<br/>
“Could I… have some of that to take home? Consider it payment for helping out.”</p><p> </p><p>Jeff laughed aloud at her request, but complied, letting her help herself to another plastic bag to fill to her heart’s content. He tried to ignore the hungry look in her eyes, the way she stuffed the bag full, before hurriedly putting some back,</p><p> </p><p>“Where does the food go?” She asked, “Do you just throw it out?”</p><p> </p><p>Jeff shook his head, “Nah. Lisa drops it off at the homeless shelter downtown.”</p><p> </p><p>Again, he tried to ignore the look of surprise in her eyes, as if something clicked within her. He chose to pretend he hadn’t seen her place back a couple of handfuls of biscuits and a couple of muffins. She packed away her now quite modest bag, containing only a couple of muffins, two croissants, and he thought he spotted a slice of lemon loaf near the bottom of her bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for helping.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. See you.” Feng lifted a hand, backing away from the counter as she held tight to her bag, holding it against her chest as she vanished out of sight.</p><p><br/>
Jeff waved, going back to finish his work. He had work to do, still, and then he could go home and tell his beloved pup all about the peculiar woman who came into work today, and the way she made his thoughts race.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. City Streets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Looking up at the star filled sky, chilled to the bone with each and every breeze that swept through the city streets, so devoid of life. Feng preferred it that way, empty, just like her.</p><p> </p><p>Warning: mentions of racism, not super descriptive violence, homelessness issues</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Looking up at the star filled sky, chilled to the bone with each and every breeze that swept through the city streets, so devoid of life. Feng preferred it that way, empty, just like her. Her stomach growled as she sat on the street corner, and she remembered the bag of treats she’d been given.</p><p> </p><p>Prying then open, the sweet smell of Pale Rose cafe flooded her senses, and she felt like she was right back there as she bit into a muffin. Real, good food. It had carrot in it, and she really didn’t mind as she sunk back against the brick building which she didn’t even know the purpose of. A home, a store, an office, it didn’t matter to her.</p><p> </p><p>The muffin was her treat to herself, a little something to indulge in. Well, the gaming earlier had been her treat to herself, this was more of Jeff’s unknowing treat to her. Her cheeks burned a bit as she remembered him, the cashier at that cafe. The one with the bun in his hair, and the soft smile, and that scar - right across his eye, striking and memorable. She wondered where it came from, but thought it rude to ask.</p><p> </p><p>The panda shaped mug came back to her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile, as much as she suppressed it. It was the little things that made Feng Min’s life worth living these days.</p><p> </p><p>Life on the streets was rough, especially having little to no life skills to help you - no knowledge of fighting, of the city, of anything that held any importance now. <em>At least,</em> she mused to no-one but herself, <em>I'm not the only one out in the cold of night</em>. The rest of the hobos, the homeless, the vagrants - they were also out tonight.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, she felt more at home in these dark city streets with them than she ever had in her home, what felt like lifetimes ago.</p><p> </p><p>She restrained herself from picking any more at the food in the bag, zipping it up and stuffing it into her bag next to her laptop, which still was somewhat warm. It was old, but it was hers, decorated with stickers from the past - cute things she thought mattered.</p><p> </p><p>Feng pushed herself up, dusting her bottoms off before she slung the bag over her shoulder and set back off into the night in search of a safe place to rest. She stalked the streets until she found somewhere fitting of her needs. One dark, sheltered alley with a dumpster to hide behind. She felt a modicum of safety as she began to drift, lulled despite the stench next to her. There were some other folks in the city she'd rather not come across, which made the smell of rotting food preferable to trying for a bed in the shelter down town. As the nights grew longer, and temperature dipped further, Feng knew she was settling in for a long, harsh winter.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The sun rose, and with it Feng rose too. Treating herself to a croissant, she set about her morning routine. Brushing her teeth with what water she could spare, brushing her hair with her old comb which was missing a number of teeth by then, and quickly changing into her other pair of clothes. Different jeans, different shirt, same jacket. It was the little things that kept her feeling human most days.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands shook with the cold, a fine layer of frost settled across the ground and even atop her through the night. Fear struck her as she finished dragging that old comb through her hair, raising the question once more, one which plagued her. </p><p> </p><p>When it gets colder, where would she go? How would she survive? </p><p> </p><p>Feng swallowed thickly, feeling a bit parched but not enough to warrant taking a sip from her only bottle of water. She added water to her mental list of things which she needed. Water, a blanket, a scarf... a home would be nice, but she stubbornly shoved that from her head. Maybe a stable, decent paying job would do at the very least. A pipe dream, of course. She knew it was bound to be a long day of making a living however she could. </p><p> </p><p>However she could was offering to clean windows, floors, cars, anything for a couple bucks. She hated panhandling, hated the pity, not being useful - it drove her mad, which is why she so rarely did it. Unfortunately, it’s what she had to resort to, picking a more friendly street to move along and ask everyone she could catch the attention of for spare change. </p><p> </p><p>Feng didn’t think she looked homeless - sure her clothes weren’t the cleanest, but she took care of basic hygiene. Brushing her hair and teeth, washing her face, changing clothes nearly daily. Hell, she even found ways to shower! Most of the folks she knew off the streets were the same way - just as human as the hotshots who liked to walk past with their noses held high and their plush 9-5 jobs. Yet they didn’t get the same respect. Somehow, she found, having a house made you more worthy of respect. </p><p> </p><p>Someone spat gum into the old coffee cup she carried, right atop a shiny nickel. She cringed when she reached in to pry the gum off of her nickel. Another man huffed at her to 'go back to her own country' and 'get a job.' Common remarks by this point, Feng just rolled her eyes and moved on, like water off a duck's back. </p><p> </p><p>Things were going good, she'd already made six whole dollars, a big improvement over the fifty cents she started at that morning. Then, around noon, things went downhill fast. </p><p> </p><p>Feng had been minding her own business, giving her feet a rest when she noticed an unfortunately familiar figure sauntering her way, surrounded by three others. She cursed, ducking her head down. Four pairs of shoes stopped, surrounding her.</p><p> </p><p>"You're on our corner, Feng." The leader of the gang cleared his throat, looking down at her. He was plain looking, maybe a little younger than her even - 19, maybe 18. </p><p> </p><p>"No I'm not, I'm not even on a corner Frank." Feng muttered in response, eyes darting between the four figures.</p><p> </p><p>Frank, Julie, Susie, and Joey. Troublemakers, rascals, the kind of teens who gave homeless folks a bad name. They were a gang, a gang of runaway teens who did shady shit for the hell of it. She knew they shoplifted, they mugged people, they did everything. They especially liked to pick on anyone who they outnumbered.</p><p> </p><p>They outnumbered Feng, four to one.</p><p> </p><p>"Come with us." The blonde piped up, a cruel smile plastered on her face. Julie, Frank's girlfriend, attached to him at the hip practically.</p><p> </p><p>"No." Feng got to her feet, trying to make herself seem taller. All except Susie were taller than her.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Susie. "C'mon, we just wanna talk." She spoke in a sweet tone, flashing a toothy smile that showed off her braces.</p><p> </p><p>Before Feng could protest again, Frank and Julie had her by the arms, one for each, leading her away from the crowded street. Joey and Susie were right behind them, and Feng swore she saw Joey flash a knife for a brief second. Her heart raced as she was dragged back to an alley, a dead end away from the hustle and bustle of the street. She was tossed to the ground, landing on her prized laptop with something of a sickening crack.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, dollface," Frank began, advancing on her as his groupies blocked the only exit, "the thing is, you're making bank off our territory. You know downtown is off limits." </p><p> </p><p>"Bullshit, Frank, you can't just claim somewhere as your own." Feng scrambled to her feet, holding her fists defensively. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, but I can."</p><p> </p><p>"And he did!" Julie chimed in, moving to advance alongside her boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>Feng sighed, reaching for her cup which was filled with a pitiful amount of change. Frank took it, handing it off to one of the others, she wasn't sure which. She was too busy looking at him, looking at how his hand entered his pocket and brought out a knife.</p><p> </p><p>The next moments were a blur, Feng would remember being punched and kicked and knocked to the ground, a painful slice hitting her side. She cried out, but tried to bite her lip to deny Frank the satisfaction. Julie was helping him, maybe the others were too, Feng couldn't tell anymore. The kicks to the gut hurt like hell, especially with the cut that was now there. She didn't even remember hitting the ground, but her head must have hit since it ached so.</p><p> </p><p>The next thing she was aware of was a light frost coming down, and sprinkling over her. She sniffled, clutching her wounded side as she scrambled to open her bag in search of anything to bandage her wound, pushing past bits of broken plastic - surely from her laptop.</p><p> </p><p>All she had was her other shirt, which she chose to tear into a bandage and wrap around her waist. The bleeding had slowed, she wasn't sure how long she'd been on the ground. Bruises lined her stomach, her legs, her back - but nothing was broken. She sighed in relief, she couldn't afford to have a broken bone.</p><p> </p><p>Might as well treat myself, she thought, digging out the other muffin she'd gotten from the cafe, taking a delicate bite. Blueberry, no, wildberry, or mixed berry. She wasn't quite sure. It was cold now, but the muffin still tasted quite good.</p><p> </p><p>Feng chose to stay there, propped against the side of a building, catching her breath and counting her bruises as the night began to fall around her. The cup was gone, along with the measly six dollars she once had to her name. Her wishlist of things to buy would have to wait, then, it would seem.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, what'd you think?</p><p>Feng and Jeff will meet again soon, just setting up for future plot points. </p><p>Also, I don't plan on this being a long series, maybe 4 parts? Depends on how my imagination goes, then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. First Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was a cold morning, bitingly cold. Snow had been falling since far earlier, before the sun even rose.<br/> </p><p>Brief mentions of animal abuse and violence</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A single flake of snow landed on one black nose, which twitched and huffed at the chill it left him. A thin, greying doberman stood off the side of the street, doing his business. Attached to his black and spiked collar was a black leash with a skull pattern, and attached to that leash was a tall man with long dark hair, and a scar over his eye.</p><p> </p><p>"You done, Philip?" Jeff called out to his best friend, who trotted to his side and pushed his dark muzzle against his owner's leg. He jumped at the sudden contact.</p><p> </p><p>"Jesus, I ought to get you a bell." He laughed, leaning down to scratch behind Philip's ear, getting a good whine of enjoyment out of his companion. "You blend in with the night, little dude. C'mon inside, let's dish you up some grub."</p><p> </p><p>Not even tugging on the leash, Philip followed Jeff to the entryway of the building, where he shook himself off. The two made their way up the apartment stairs, heading up multiple flights to the fifth floor, where they stopped before the apartment labelled 5D. They entered, and Jeff removed the leash from the doberman before heading to the kitchen to fill up the metal dog bowl.</p><p> </p><p>The apartment was small, one bedroom and bathroom, a kitchen and a livingroom area. It was pretty nice, all things considered. A bit on the small size for his preference, especially with having a dog. </p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing that Philip wasn't much of an active dog, then. He was old, a rescue, although nobody wasn't quite sure how old. The humane society couldn't tell, as he'd been found tied up in an alley, rail thin and certainly suffering. His recovery hadn't been immediate, but he made it out alright in the end. Jeff was thankful every day for his recovery - he wouldn't know what to do without Philip. He'd been looking for a long time for a dog, hoping that having a companion would help him settle his anxieties, and get some extra socialization. Plus, he'd always loved dogs. That day he entered the shelter, and went out to their kennels, as soon as he spotted the quiet dog he knew immediately.</p><p> </p><p>It was meant to be. </p><p> </p><p>Now, he stood watching Philip as he slurped up some water, and chowed down on some good dog food, for senior dogs of course. He leaned back against the counter, a smile playing on his lips, before he turned to get himself a can of beer before he settled in for the night.</p><p> </p><p>As Jeff popped it open, he headed from the kitchen, turning the light off behind him as he made for the bathroom. He let his hair out of the bun he kept it in, and tossed the elastic into a pile with some others by the sink. He took a swig, and peered into the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>He'd need to shave his beard, he noted, rubbing his chin. He'd do it before he went to work. His eyes lingered for a moment on the scar which stretched across the left side of his face, splitting his eyebrow twice before coming to a point similar to a V below his eye. Fond memories flooded his head, memories of long nights thrashing to death metal and drunken fighting in the mosh pit. His days of following bands around like some wannabe groupie had long since passed, the change spurred on by his injury.</p><p> </p><p>It nearly cost him his vision, he was damn lucky to still be able to see. </p><p> </p><p>Jeff took another swig, and turned the light off before he left. He stepped over Philip, who'd followed him to the bathroom, and made for his bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>He shed his work clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin by the door, and pulled out an old band shirt to tug on. A pair of sweatpants completed his look. </p><p> </p><p>He thought back over his work that night, frowning softly. Why'd he feel like he was forgetting something? He tried to shake it off, but it kept sticking with him as he sipped his beer and turned his little old television on to see what was on.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing interesting. He rolled his eyes as he skimmed through the channels, sat on the edge of his bed with his dog by his feet, chewing on some toy rabbit or something. </p><p> </p><p>A commercial flashed across the screen, lighting the room up. Just an ad about some new video game that was soon to release, nothing that really would have interested Jeff on any other day. But the name, it was familiar, and the gameplay too-</p><p> </p><p>"Ah shit," He sighed, "that's the game that Feng girl was playing. Right?"</p><p> </p><p>He looked at Philip, as if the dog would answer. </p><p> </p><p>Feng, he remembered, that's right. That's what hadn't felt right. He'd not seen Feng since that first day. She shouldn't have stuck in his mind so much, she wasn't anything different or new - she looked like any other regular girl.</p><p> </p><p><em>So why then,</em> he pondered, was she still on his mind after like, a week?</p><p> </p><p>He knew exactly why, as he sat there and sipped his booze. He had a thing for her, she was cute, and it'd been a long time since he'd dated - god, probably not since his days on the road. </p><p> </p><p>Jeff shook his head, putting his beer aside and shutting the lights off. Best not to dwell on it, there were other fish in the sea, he told himself. Television still on, he got into bed, watching some infomercial he'd not remember in the morning.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was a cold morning, bitingly cold. Snow had been falling since far earlier, before the sun even rose. Jeff had taken his pup out on a quick stroll through the neighborhood, but it was too cold to keep old Philip out long. He'd still not shaved, having a few peaceful days off of work. It was mid-morning by the time he finally got properly dressed, and caught the bus downtown. He lived in a decent area not far from the places he shopped downtown, but during brutal Canadian winters, Jeff couldn't be assed to trudge through the cold more than needed.</p><p> </p><p>It was shopping day, list in his head as he walked from the bus stop to his usual Walmart, and perused the aisles without much of a thought. </p><p> </p><p>He decided to toss a pack of hot chocolate and marshmallows into his cart, adding a small box of dog treats for the sake of it. Live a little, and all that.</p><p> </p><p>An older man with salt and pepper hair checked him out at the cash, movements fluid as he scanned without looking down at the items, save for the box of treats, where he laughed as he tried to find the bar code.</p><p> </p><p>"Got a dog, huh?" He raised his eyebrows. Jeff merely nodded, prompting the man to continue on,</p><p> </p><p>"I got one myself. Little rat-looking one, she's a menace on my slippers." </p><p> </p><p>Jeff nodded once more, peeking at the name tag pinned to the man's shirt. Ace.</p><p> </p><p>"Not much of a talker, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>Jeff didn't recognize the man, he'd never seen him in the year he'd been coming to this Walmart. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright. Let me finish ringing you up then." There was a twinkle in this Ace's eye as he tapped in a couple numbers, repeated the total back to Jeff, and waited for his payment.</p><p> </p><p>Jeff scanned his card, typing his pin code in as quickly as he could. He looked away from Ace, accepting his receipt.</p><p> </p><p>"Have a good day, kid."</p><p> </p><p>"You too." Jeff finally spoke, earning a smile as he heaved his things up into his arms and carried his bags out with the intention of getting on the next bus.</p><p> </p><p>It's not like he was trying to be rude or anything, Jeff just really didn't like making conversation. Especially with strangers, on his day off, at Walmart. He trudged along, heading down the street. It was a brief walk, maybe 5 minutes, to the nearest bus stop that'd take him home.</p><p> </p><p>A shivering man stood at the crosswalk, asking softly for change from the people who wandered by, but nobody paid any mind to him. Jeff dug through his pockets, and found a couple of dollars - he placed them into the man's cup, and gave him a smile as he continued on his way. The look on that man's face, the pure happiness, the yellowing teeth peering out from behind chapped lips stretched into a smile, it made Jeff's day.</p><p> </p><p>He continued, not minding as he passed by various people, some who stepped too close to his personal bubble or brushed against his bag, which carried the breakable eggs and tender bread. He just wanted to get home.</p><p> </p><p>Another shivering beggar stood by a building, holding an old cup and clutching her stomach, in what Jeff assumed was hunger. He stopped to dig through his grocery bags, pulling out a thing of crackers which he'd bought to go with some soup. Ehh, he didn't need them as badly. As he approached the woman, he spotted her face and nearly froze.</p><p> </p><p>Feng stood before him, clutching an old coffee cup which she outstretched to the public, with pleading eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Hi." She said softly, recognizing him.</p><p> </p><p>"Feng? What're you doing out here? It's freezing." Jeff said, stepping off to the side to let an old couple pass them.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you know, just..." She trailed off, wincing.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you hungry?" He jumped in, "We could go grab like, a coffee and lunch or something."</p><p> </p><p>Jeff wasn't stupid, most of the time. He could tell now what was going on. The girl he had a thing for seemed to be begging for some reason, maybe because she was unemployed. He didn't know, it wasn't his place to judge, but he was not going to pass up the opportunity to spend some more time with her.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, um, thank you but I really shouldn't." Feng's voice wavered, and she leaned back on the brick building, it was closed down currently, no shops occupied the empty space. Nobody to kick out beggars.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I insist. I can pay." He felt the words stumble out of his mouth before he could stop them.</p><p> </p><p>He took the chance to eye her face up, memorizing every detail once more. Those dark eyes, hidden slightly behind her long bangs, but still as deep and intriguing as ever. Her face was more pale than he remembered, despite the pink flush in her cheeks, and twisted up into an expression he couldn't quite place.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh. Feng?" He grew a little worried as he looked back down to her hand, which covered her side more than her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>No response, just her looking up at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay?" His heart started to race. He couldn't tell, was it out of excitement or worry? </p><p> </p><p>"J-Jeff, I..."</p><p> </p><p>Feng pulled her hand away, revealing a blood stain on her white shirt. It looked old, if Jeff knew anything about blood stains. His brows furrowed, and his hand instinctively reached out for her shirt. She flinched, and he dropped his hand. </p><p> </p><p>"You're hardly wearing anything." He noted, seeing how she was just in that light jacket he'd seen her in before, with a probably short sleeved shirt on underneath.</p><p> </p><p>Silence fell over them, as snow found its way down around them. It was a long moment of standing awkwardly, uncomfortably, the cold creeping in on them. And as fast as it began, it ended, with Feng collapsing and Jeff scrambling forward, dropping his bags to catch her before she hit her head. Eggs cracked, yolk spilling out as he held the girl and searched his pockets frantically for his phone. </p><p> </p><p>"911, what's your emergency?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, the Wraith is a dog. Don't tell me you don't look at how he does that cute lil head turn and think "puppie!"</p><p>Also, the plot? It thickens.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoy! </p><p>Any feedback is great.</p><p>I may change the fic name.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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